


A Writer

by wrabbit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: fic_promptly, Cracky, Gen, Gen Fic, Internet, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-19
Updated: 2011-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:59:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrabbit/pseuds/wrabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For darlingfox's prompt, Hermione longs for a certain muggle technology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Writer

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism: Welcome

Hermione sighed as Rose tugged her through the muggle street and towards the wizarding section down a dodgy appearing alleyway, her daughter oblivious to the trash and puddles and spiders in her eagerness to set herself in front of the windows of Matilda's Menagerie and see her beloved - a charmed cat whose fur cycled through a rainbow of colors by the moon. It was her birthday soon and her very existence depended on it being hers. To tell the truth, Hermione was already tired of the sight of that cat and it had been on reserve under Ron's mother's name for weeks.

Her eyes were torn somewhere entirely else. On the muggle street - clean, brightly lit, a foreign country full of strange, stupid and dangerous people to her magic-taken daughter - they were passing cafe after bookshop after tea house that proclaimed in modest letters "Free WiFi" on their doors.

It had been over a month since Hermione had had the chance to use her modest netbook - hidden and kept dormant and safe from both children, husbands and magic in a warded box in a cupboard at home.

"The Ent-net again?" Ron had asked the last time she had gone out dressed in muggle jeans and shirt for a cup of tea. She appreciated his efforts to hide his confusion and repayed him by keeping the details of her outings to the barbarian muggle world to herself.

"I'll be just up the street," she had promised him.

"Yeah, okay," he had answered vaguely. He would come looking for her only if he had to, and look privately uncomfortable the whole time.

Hermione silently plotted her next kinkmeme fic, scratched on bits of parchment back at home, while her daughter stared in the shop window beside her and regaled her with a highly edited story her uncle had told her about Albus Dumbledore. If she finished it this weekend there would be time next week for a few hours of transcription and then fic browsing in the muggle district.

"Mummy, look! He's more blue today!"

"Yes, dear."


End file.
